Finger Lickin' Good
by hermionesmydawg
Summary: Undercover assignments aren't always fair, and Deeks is really jealous of Sam's ice cream cone. [Deeks/Sam, M/M]


_Here's the part where I fill all of your voids with warnings:_

 **AU** \- Partner swap, and when I say partners, I mean still with privileges.  
 **Slash** \- As in M/M. As in dudes liking dudes.  
 **Gelato** \- As in, fancy _Ice Cream_. A little richer, creamier version. I like it.

Don't hate any of those things? Then there's about a 50% chance you might like this. Also, there are certain people to blame for this story. They know who they are, and I hope they're as happy as a pig in shit that I gave in to their bullying.

* * *

As with most things, Deeks always got the short end of the stick.

He'd been sleeping on the street for three days now while Sam was living the life of luxury in The Roosevelt, playing dress up as a Corporal turned intelligence trader. Sam had suits, Deeks had the smelliest jacket known to man, Artie. Sam had steak and lobster, Deeks had his take-out box that he'd quietly slip to him in the alley. It fucking sucked.

This wasn't the first time he'd gone undercover as a homeless man. Hell, assignments like this were probably why Hetty recruited him to the team in the first place. That, and his undeniable charm, of course. In the past though, he'd had his furry companion with him to talk to and hold on to at night. But Monty was growing older, and the hard cement was just too rough on his brittle bones and stiff hips. Save for Sam's voice in his earwig and occasional stops to see him, he was alone. The life of a man on overwatch duty.

Everyone had a cover on this mission - Kensi and Callen had gone south to San Diego, while he and Sam worked the Los Angeles angle. They'd all meet up soon, but today was the big day that would make or break their surveillance. The climax of this assignment couldn't come soon enough. It was 95 degrees outside today, he was sweating his balls off, and Sam fucking Hanna just walked out of a cafe with a motherfucking ice cream cone.

"I hate you so much right now," Deeks muttered, crouching on his ankles around the corner. He had a great line of sight, but was far enough away that no one would connect the two. "Ice cream?"

"Gelato," Sam corrected, twirling his tongue around the top of the cone. "Probably a mistake, though. It's melting fast in this heat."

"No shit, it's hot?" Deeks snarked back. "I'm pretty fucking cool over here."

"You're anything but cool, Deeks." A drop of ice cream landed on his knuckle, so he lapped it up. "And I can smell you from all the way over there."

"What can I say, I'm method when I go under." His throat was parched already, and watching the sweet glistening of semi-frozen heaven dripping precariously over Sam's hand wasn't helping. It may have been the heat, or the lack of nourishment, but Sam's methodical destruction of his ice cream cone was driving him insane. Also, it was entirely possible that it was giving him some pretty bad thoughts. Sticky thoughts. "Um. Sharesies?"

"Don't say sharesies." Sam opened his mouth wide, swallowing half of the cone in one bite. "You jealous?"

"You have no idea," Deeks answered bitterly, shaking his head to clear his mind. A black Mercedes turning the corner caught his eye. He watched as it parked a block down on the corner, in front of a boutique. "I think you've got company."

Sam cut his eyes to the right, nodding confirmation and tossing the remainder of his gelato in a nearby trash can. "Do what you do, Deeks."

He waited patiently, watching their target approach Sam (or really, Sam's character). When the time was right, Deeks snuck through the alley, coming out by the Mercedes on the other side. It was offensive as hell but he began cursing loudly, scaring off anyone on the street near him with his crazy act. He dropped to his knees to tie his shoes, shoving a nail in the rear passenger tire and sticking a tracking device on the underside of the car. Then he slipped back through the alley to return to his overwatch position, listening as Sam sold his knowledge and offered another piece of the setup - an encrypted thumb drive.

It all happened in a flash, and then it was done. Days of prep for just a few minutes of work, for them anyway. It would be up to the rest of their team to follow the trail from here on out. The target walked back to his car with a pleased smile on his face, which made Deeks' belly do a happy little flip-flop. As much as he complained, he loved his job and he loved taking down bad guys.

Deeks shot a look at Sam, who met eyes briefly before turning his back and walking towards the hotel. Plenty of time and people passed before he slid Artie off of his back, folded the coat neatly, and tucked it underneath the shelter he'd made for himself in the alley. He took out his dirty mouthpiece, wiped his face on his shirt, and ran a hand through his hair. This was LA. Half of the celebrities here walked around dressed just as sloppily as he was, and with just a little cleanup he could stroll into the swanky hotel without a second glance.

He walked in casually, avoiding eye contact and heading straight to the elevators and the fifth floor. Less than a minute later, he knocked seven times on the door and was immediately greeted by an annoyed face. "I thought we agreed. Four knocks."

Deeks shrugged and pushed his way into the room. "You knew it was me. Are we online?"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "Our connection won't come up until Eric activates it. Nothing going on right now."

"So now what?"

"Now, we wait." Sam turned his nose up. "Or now I wait, and you take a damn shower."

"It's not..." Deeks sniffed himself. "Okay yeah, no. Shower."

Living on the street for a day, or three, brought back appreciation for the things Deeks had a tendency of taking advantage of. Scalding hot water. Soap. Stinky hotel shampoo and conditioner. And oh God, toothbrush and toothpaste. The amount of suffering he endured over his precious teeth made them one of his most valued tangible possessions now. A smile crossed his face when he saw that Sam had already set out his dental supplies on the counter for him. It was the little things like that which made his partner stand out from the rest of the group. After plenty of scrubbing and rinsing and brushing, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out of the bathroom. "You didn't by chance pack any smedium tees or jeans not bought in the husky section, did you?"

"What do you think?" Sam looked up from the GPS locator on his computer, letting his eyes run up and down the length of Deeks' body. He narrowed his eyes. "The street wasn't kind to you."

Well, no shit. His beard was full and scraggly and he had barely slept or eaten in three days. Even after the shower, he probably still looked like he belonged with the other unfortunate souls in LA that had fallen on hard times. The reminder of that was unnecessary, even if it was voiced with concern. "Not all of us can be pampered undercover, you know."

"Pampered?" Sam licked his lips and cocked an eyebrow. "I'm a SEAL. You have no idea what roughing it is like."

Deeks shook his hair, sending little water droplets flying around the room. Dammit, he was just in a towel, with no clean clothes, and now he was getting cold. Nothing could go his way today. He rubbed a hand across the hotel room's perfectly made king bed before plopping on it and rolling on his back. "Is this Egyptian cotton? It's like, super rough."

"You're ridiculous."

"Maybe some room service would give me a greater appreciation for roughing it, yeah?" Rolling his head, Deeks looked towards his partner. Sam stood and slipped his suit jacket off, and Deeks figured he was about to be left to continue his bitching in solitude. "I think I at least deserve some ice cream."

"Gelato," Sam corrected with a barely straight face. He wasn't actually leaving at all. No, now he was standing with his giant tree-stump legs pressed against Deeks' knees while he looked down at the almost naked man on his bed disapprovingly. "You think you deserve to be pampered, huh?"

Deeks propped himself up on his elbows and grinned. He was so deep under Sam's skin now and he loved it. "Or at least some fucking gelato."

Wordlessly, Sam crawled on the bed, flattening Deeks to the mattress. Getting hit by Sam Hanna was like being smashed by a Mack truck, yet lying under him was more like being wrapped up in the world's warmest blanket. Sam was complex as hell, and he totally dug it because he was, too.

"You missed me," Deeks whispered smugly. His smirk was interrupted by a tongue flicking against his lower lip, drawing it roughly between snow white teeth. Salty sweetness still lingered there, seeping into his mouth and overpowering the mint from his toothpaste. Sea Salt and Caramel, Deeks thought. His favorite flavor.

Sam tugged, then released his lip. "Maybe I'm just trying to shut you up."

"Isn't that always your excuse?" Deeks thrust his hips playfully. The computer on the desk next to bed caught his attention. They weren't connected to Ops right now, but that didn't mean Nell or Eric couldn't pop on at any second. "As much as I'd love for you to continue showing me how much you missed the Marty love, this might not be the safest place to do it."

"Hmm. The camera's off," Sam murmured, quickly moving his mouth down Deeks' bare chest and belly until he came to a rest, kneeling on the floor. His fingers worked the towel open, and just like that, the roles were reversed - he was the one with the smug smirk now.

Deeks' eyes grew wide and he hissed, "Are you serious right now?"

But Sam didn't answer, of course. There was really no need to when his hands and mouth could do it all for him. Actions spoke louder than words, and while Sam's words were often teasing and borderline hurtful, his mouth was anything but. Warm, eager, and almost desperate with his need to please. He strove for perfection in every aspect of life, and Deeks' imperfect canvas was the most fitting place for him to create his art.

Of all the ways to shut Deeks up, a blow job was by far the best. Sure, dirty words and barking commands flew around his demented mind, but he never could quite get all of his synapses to fire at the right times to make his thoughts come to life. So he could do nothing but lie there, happily accepting his reward for a job well done. His jealousy of the ice cream cone earlier and the reaction it sparked made perfect damn sense when he was being subjected to the same methodical treatment.

He came hard and quietly, still a little paranoid about the meerkats in Ops and their grasp on modern technology. The last three days of misery were quickly becoming a distant memory, replaced by a blissful smile and a feeling of contentment. Deeks popped one eye open in time to see Sam wipe his mouth with a finger, only to unceremoniously shove it into his mouth. Not that he minded, sucking excitedly on the salty sweet goodness.

Sam smiled proudly. "Pampered enough now?"

"Enough?" Deeks shrugged lazily. "I think I could handle more."

"Really?" Sam winked mischievously. "Okay then."

Okay, so maybe Deeks didn't _always_ get the short end of the stick.


End file.
